<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Don't dare to lose you. by PeachyDamon</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27326434">Don't dare to lose you.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachyDamon/pseuds/PeachyDamon'>PeachyDamon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Left 4 Dead (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Enemy Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Love Triangles, My First Fanfic, Romance, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:34:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27326434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachyDamon/pseuds/PeachyDamon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>*short chapters*</p><p>Rochelle doesn't feel like a lady anymore. Not with blood and thick, mucky intestines draping over her shoulders every ten minutes. Officially, she's one of the boys now. And she's not really sure how to feel about that.</p><p>//idek what this is but recently i started playing the game again and wanted to fuel some headcanons so enjoy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ellis &amp; Rochelle (Left 4 Dead), Ellis/Rochelle (Left 4 Dead), Nick &amp; Rochelle (Left 4 Dead), Nick/Rochelle (Left 4 Dead)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been one hell of a night; plowing through seas of hostile and mobile decaying flesh that has their hearts set on killing any living thing, scrounging for supplies or whatever scraps they can to get by the next hour and essentially, just try to <em>survive</em>.</p><p> </p><p>It was hard – but it was nothing Rochelle wasn’t used to. At least, not since the last month. She was stuck in an endless loop of death and life, the next step never promised anything but fear. She was tired but a glint of hope that something was at the end of the road they were on might save their asses pushed her to drag her feet for one more mile. It has always been that way.</p><p> </p><p>This time it pushed her too far.</p><p> </p><p>Rochelle teetered her steps. She wasn’t walking in the straight line she thought she was, her body leaned over the scale as she strained her eyes forward to focus. Her peripheral view came out wonky and blurred, like something she’d hallucinate after downing a whole bottle of pills. The boys had been trudging nonstop across the muck, dodging through branches and shoving off any threat without breaking a sweat – granted, Coach seemed a bit out of breath but it was nothing compared to what she’s feeling. She supposed it was due to the, uhh, biological differences (as much as she hated to admit that) but Rochelle could tell she needed a breather. Her legs were not walking a step further.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, guys?” she beckoned, her voice faltered with just a hint of shame, “do you think that we should call it quits for tonight?” The axe sandwiched between her palm slid down the floor, letting loose it’s heavy weight. “I’m pretty tired.”</p><p> </p><p>The next second that passed felt like an eternity – Rochelle was sure she saw a displeased grimace emitting from Nick but that was to be expected from him. However, she was never looking for validation from the grouchy gambler to begin with. The woman lifted a questioning brow towards the eldest of the group, repeating in silence. ‘Can we?’</p><p> </p><p>Coach stood riveted in his spot, pondering their current options for a good night’s rest. He eyed the building perched right beside them; it was a motel (how convenient) – yet overrun to the ashes. Plasters were corroding off the walls and wood banisters looked like they were to collapse anytime soon due to the constant weight of hordes that trampled along the halls. It hadn’t seemed like the establishment itself was in any good shape even before the apocalypse began but it was the closest thing next to a roof over their heads that they could find. The next safe house wouldn’t be for a couple more miles away and even the big guy admitted that he was getting lousy with his aim for the past hour or two. Sleeping is long overdue. Coach returned a welcoming smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah’ don’t see why not.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Of course, with all that said and done, there’s still a need for a cleanup job if they were ever going to get by till dawn safely. The abandoned motel rooms weren’t short of infected scattering everywhere, some were even tucked away beside the beds and contaminating every inch of the walls with blood and other forms of toxic bodily fluids. Rochelle made a mental note of staying clear of those particular rooms.</p><p> </p><p>She was halfway through the second floor, purging each cubicle free from the undead and tossing the marred bodies into a pile of corpses mounted inside a dried-up pool. She recognized some of them were not even tainted with rot or decomposition on their skins – which brought her the conclusion that these people were massacred alive and that sent shivers down her spine. She was definitely glad to not be there to witness such barbaric scene.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, damnit! This shit smells awful.”</p><p> </p><p>She’d recognize that snarky tone anywhere. Rochelle poked her head into the compartment beside hers, watching amusedly as Nick hauls a pair of legs by the ankles between his hips, his mouth never short of complaints while dragging the body outside. He’d been trying so hard to avoid dirtying his white porcelain suit from the gore – but Rochelle figured that was way too late considering the gradual tint of yellow that started to paint over his sleeves. It was a sight that forced a chuckle out of her, the pink shirt woman rested her elbows over the window pane.</p><p> </p><p>“Working hard?” She tried not to sound so condescending. It was a very poor attempt.</p><p> </p><p>The short-tempered man threw a onceover towards her direction before grumbling in response. “Thanks to you. Tell me, whatever in the hell that goes on your mind to make you think that this is a good idea?” Nick scoffed. He’d almost pushed back a strand of loose hair with his bloodied hand but got lucky enough just in time to remember.</p><p> </p><p>“I need the rest, Nick. We all do.” Rochelle’s facial expressions softened along with her voice. She understood Nick’s concern; the rooms weren’t exactly what people would consider sanitary and considering the main threat is the virus itself, they wouldn’t normally camp out in the open like this. But it’s better to risk getting sneaked on by a single infected than storming into a swarm of them dog-tired and drowsy.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I’m not sleeping on the bed.” Stubborn as a mule, Nick huffed. He drew out a frown upon seeing the crusty blotch of red smeared all over his arms, sheen metallic smell prodded into his nostrils. The pungent scent almost made him want to keel over and gag.</p><p> </p><p>Rochelle shrugged in reply. Nick was never an easy one.</p><p> </p><p>“Suit yourself. Gotta warn you though, coffee isn’t a thing anymore. You may want to consider a full night’s sleep for the time being.” She gave him one last piece of advice before leaving the floor with a light snicker – not noticing how Nick lingered his gaze over her a little bit longer than usual.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>